


Aaron's Story

by Coppernicous



Series: Coppernicous Interconnected Writing [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, hyper cock, hyper cum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coppernicous/pseuds/Coppernicous
Summary: Aaron has a bit of an unlucky streak in his life; hopefully, the antics don't make things too bad for him.
Series: Coppernicous Interconnected Writing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172495
Kudos: 10





	Aaron's Story

Aaron swore as the screen blurred. He wasn’t good with spatial reasoning, so why did he let himself get talked into trying this dumb puzzle game? True, he was bored, but he trusted the support group to at least have a few good ideas as to what he could try. At least it was only five dollars that went down the drain. He leaned back in his chair, letting a hand rest on his chest. Ugh, what else could he do today? Sundays were the worst to make plans for, because _nothing_ was open. Damn Puritain history, it was the twenty-first century, not the seventeenth!

Aaron’s internal rant was cut short when his hand reported being unexpectedly  warm and  wet.  Glancing down, he quickly found the reason why. His dick, half-erect and idly pulsing with his heartbeat, had decided to disgorge a load of precum straight onto his sternum, his hand, and generally all over his eighth favorite shirt. As he looked down at the cockhead with mild disappointment, it drooled out another, smaller bubble out of the slit.

He brought his clean hand to his face. This is what he deserved after skipping the little orange pill, he supposed, but he needed to save all the ones he could get his hands on. The over-the-counter stuff never kept his erections in check for long enough and worse, sometimes  his pre spills just ignored the medication entirely .  More than once, he put his faith in those phony things only to have to call up a friend from the chat group to deliver spare pants and a sling after his nuts decided 3:30 was a perfect time to drop half their daily precum.

A third defiant delivery of pre later, Aaron gambled on it being the last and started to take off his shirt, carefully balling it up so that he had as much time as possible to get it to the sink. Now with the only stitches of clothing on him being the sling that kept his nuts in place, he  pinned his cock to his chest and  hurried to the bathroom, hoping that he hadn’t misjudged his shirt’s absorbency  or  his cock’ s ability to produce surprise loads of pre .

Unfortunately, he misjudged the  latter . Thankfully, he had crossed the threshold of the bathroom, so now it counted as “cleanup”, and not “containment”.  Aaron carefully avoided the new puddle and dropped his shirt in the sink with a wet splat. He supposed he should have noticed those first spurts weren’t as large as they should have been, but that was in the past now.

He walked over to the shower and prepared himself. He had heard that some guys preferred the toilet, his post-puberty growth spurts made that infeasible. A week-long hold-in was enough for most guys to brag about overflowing a toilet. For Aaron, that was only three days, much less one day requiring multiple flushes to clear  the thickest cum  out.

H e readied himself, pulling his cock off his chest and standing at the back of the shower.  His dick was wide enough around  (ten inches, if his last measurement was to be believed) that one hand barely wasn’t enough to really deal with the thing, but two was enough *and* he knew how to focus it all on the really sensitive bits.

A aron settled in. Sure, sometimes he pulled out the toys to enjoy himself, but he wasn’t feeling it at the moment. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t planning on having fun, but in his mind, this was blocked out as a chore. Maybe after work tomorrow, he’ll really go all in. But now, he had to deal with the thing in front of him. He slickened his hand with pre and started with a long, slow pull down his--

Fuck! Ugh, another reason he couldn’t go all-out  now . He was *too* sensitive today, something most other men didn’t  understand . If you wanted a good time, you needed rhythm, something over-sensitivity never allowed you to get before you were seeing stars.  More than once, h e had found himself gasping for breath, backed up against the wall with his balls more stuffed than when he started  all because he couldn’t push himself over the edge properly. Was it partially because of some lingering effects of the medication? He’d never know.

Stilling his breath, he grasped around his cock again below the most sensitive areas. “Alright, work with me,” he turned and glared at his balls, “and don’t get snippy with me, I’m getting there.” A dribble of precum trailed out of his slit as he felt his cock harden the last bit.

Carefully, he slipped his hands back up his cock, slowly working his way up while trying to avoid over-stimulation again. He let out his breath as he reached the tip  and started the trip back down. He was more careful this time, only willing to risk what was necessary. His mind burned with stimulation, and underneath, his arousal was starting to build.

That was good, but it also meant  that he probably should hurry things along if he didn’t want a larger load than usual.  His mix of circumstances meant that if he really focused on it, he swore he could feel his ball slowly pumping themselves up with anticipation for the big release. Maybe it was simply the thousands of things he was feeling all at once during these times, but he swore that those occasions he lingered took a little longer to clean up.

Speaking of cleanup, he heard something splatter at the front of the shower. Glancing up, he saw his cockhead fire another spurt of pre, missing the shower head by a foot, but slathered over the shower knobs. Dammit, was this thing trying to make cleanup as hard as possible today?

A aron turned his focus back to his cock and the rhythm. If it was just going to cause problems and make messes, he was going to take care of it all now.  Thankfully, even with all these rambling thoughts, he should be close to--

Aaron’s lower body seized all at once, and a bolt of hot cum shot up, striking the shower head. Aaron swore, grabbing at the head of his dick and pointing it down towards the drain. Not a moment too soon, he shot a second rope onto the metal drain, more than covering it, although the third rope seemed to push for the honor of clogging it up. The fourth and fifth shots seemed to have the last of the energy, the former not arcing much and the latter all but dribbling out and pooling just in front of his feet.

A aron stood there, eyes closed, taking in the afterglow. After all, he wasn’t likely to enjoy the next ten minutes, getting all the cum out of the places it wasn’t supposed to be. He let out the breath he’d been holding. He was taking tomorrow evening for his “me” time.

He felt a brief shock of panic as he felt his sling slip from its place, now that his reduced balls weren’t helping keep it up, and watched in dismay as it soaked up some of the fresh cum.

…Yeah, he definitely earned tomorrow for himself.

\---

<<<

\---

Aaron mashed the ‘enter’ key a few times. Come on, it should be responding already. Typical, just when you need things to work properly, they start blowing up in your face. It’s like the world knows when to make something malfunction just to make people’s lives worse.

Aaron froze. He swore he felt something on his dick. He scrambled to remember what he did during lunch, and whether he remembered to take the pill after everything else. Glancing up, he saw the unfolded napkin he brought the pill in. No, he unfolded that to take the pill. He was fine. …Well, should be fine. Right? …Right?

A second twinge in his cock made him think otherwise. This shouldn’t be possible. The medication was supposed to prevent him from getting erections entirely, and he knew these sensations to be the medication failing to do its job. And given his sling required his cock to curl under his balls, he didn’t have much time before something happened. The worst part was that one of the two things that go wrong- ripping through his pants or sling (which was less sexually gratifying when you couldn’t get another set easily), or getting precum all over his clothes (and for him, it wasn’t just anything below the belt that could get hit)- always seemed to happen regardless of what he tried to do.

And it was going to happen if he didn’t do anything.

He stood up from his cubicle and made towards the hallway, forming a plan in his mind. He was a good ways away from the bathrooms on this floor, but he should be fine and be able to ride out this problem when he gets there.

Another throb from his cock made him reconsider. This one wasn’t as subtle as the last time. He started to hurry, pushing himself to a fast walk. Running with the amount of mass packed on his groin wasn’t feasible, especially since the last time he emptied himself was last night. There wasn’t much room for error, but thankfully, the bathrooms were just around the corner, a ways down the--

Shit, shit! A janitor’s cart sat in front of the men’s bathroom, with a helpful little note informing the workers to use the bathrooms downstairs. Aaron spun on his heels, almost throwing him off-balance, and rushed to the stairs.

He cursed his rotten luck as the took the stairs two at a time. He liked this sling and the way it felt as it rubbed against his cock and balls, but that was all under the assumption that the medication was keeping it from registering as stimulation. As it stood, he was feeling the next stiffening throb worryingly quickly as he reached the landing of the stairs.

He got to the foot of the stairs and made a hard turn when he felt it. The slit in his cock head being pushed apart by a lazily dribbling shot of pre. Considering how far his dick was wrapped around his balls, this might not be a problem, if the sheer size of his bulge didn’t draw attention in and of itself. He could feel the gazes of the few people in the hallway drawn further south as they wondered what was going on with him.

Aaron rushed into the bathroom, letting the door swing shut behind himself. Briefly blinded by the automatic lights, he instinctively made a sharp turn and hurried into the nearest stall, locking the door behind him.

The next second, his hands were on the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning, undoing the fly, throwing them down, then pulling the sling off and freeing his cock from its confines. As he did so, a thin silver trail flew from the tip, one end landing on the seat of the toilet, creating a bridge up to the leaking head. Carefully staying his hand to prevent things from becoming any worse, he checked his sling and pants for damage.

The good news was that he didn’t break any of the seams this time. He shuddered, thinking back to the one time he forgot to take the medication entirely and his cock managed to shred the inseam of his pants *and* burst out of the sling. The bad news is that he either severely misjudged the amount of pre he released coming down the stairs, or his cock had dripped some earlier, and he completely missed it, being so preoccupied in getting to safety.

The sling had a large pool sitting right at the bottom, and the fabric darkened a worrying amount away from it as the precum continued to soak in. His pants were better, but not by much. What had leaked through the sling had been thinly slathered around, making a large dark area without much sitting around. The word ‘much’ was doing a lot of work here. Warily, he glanced behind himself and saw a thin trail of pre lead right to his stall, just like the trail into the toilet.

This, he concluded, was bad enough to call for backup. He rummaged down in his pocket and pulled out his thankfully dry phone, navigating through his contacts. On his third day on the job, he had received a message from a co-worker who had heard about him. Aaron was surprised to hear that the guy had basically been forming a support group of hypertrophied men in the city, and wanted to extend a hand in camaraderie and commiseration. Aaron had eagerly accepted, and was quick to make new friends in the unfamiliar city.

He had quickly found out that the organizer, Nathan, worked from home due to his size. It wasn’t that he was immobile, but when you got to the size where you officially received government support, people were reluctant to deny requests like that.

All that aside, he and Aaron had worked out a plan. If things got bad enough for him at work, Nathan could usually swing by the workplace with a spare sling and pants, and Aaron would find a way to pay him back later.

Aaron tapped the name, held the phone to his ear, and prayed. The phone rang once, twice…

“Hello?”

“Nathan! It’s me, Aaron.”

“Hey. Judging by the fact that the work day hasn’t ended--”

“Skip the Sherlock act, please.”

“Fine, fine. Give me a minute to get everything together. I’ll be over as soon as I can. Just hang tight.”

“Not like I have somewhere else to be.”

“Same location?”

“A floor down, but otherwise, yeah. I wasn’t expecting the janitor.”

“Got it. On my way.”

The line went dead, and Aaron let the phone fall to his side with a sigh. He slipped the phone back into his pants and reached towards the toilet paper. There was a lot of cleanup to do until Nathan arrived.


End file.
